Chapter 53: Chapter 53

C H A P T E R - T W E N T Y - T W O

"You see what I sent you? ”

I watched Arlene, who had a black eye, a damaged cheekbone, a smashed lip, and furious bruises on her neck, talk on the phone while I lay on a dirty bed in a filthy apartment with my mouth gagged, hands bound behind my back with hard, tight, painful plastic strips, and luckily over my boots. She had snapped a photo of me while I was lying there with her phone and emailed it to many others, one of whom she was currently on the phone with.

She yelled into the phone, "Yeah, that's from me, bitch." “We got her and you can have her for two hundred large.”

The good news was that I was very valuable—I was worth 200 large. Everything else was terrible news. absolutely every other. My wrists were being bit into by the plastic shackles, which I worried had broken skin because it hurt so much, and I was also being gagged and tied. I was in an unclean apartment in a strange place. When the van rotated and I couldn't stop myself from rolling and banging into the walls, it was painful and uncomfortable. I had been brought there laying in the back of a dirty van.

Although I didn't know what had happened to Brett, I didn't think that whatever had happened was good since I believed that he had been given orders to protect me and would adhere to them strictly. Additionally, there had been gunfire and Brett was a wonderful guy who also had a kid on the way. Finally, Arlene wasn't working by herself.

She was accompanied by three males. One was at that precise time sniffing cocaine into his nostril while hunched over a mirror. Another was using the restroom when I heard him urinating with the door open.

The third, however, was seated on a chair that had been dragged up to the bed; his forearms, on which I had clawed and opened the flesh, were resting on his thighs; a rifle hung between them; and his glum eyes were fixed on me.

I remarked hysterically that he would have been attractive if he hadn't been so tough, so terrifying, and so clearly unwilling to shoot me.

My gaze shifted from the spooky, deadly kidnapper to Arlene as she said, "Oh sure, you're correct.  I used to be your friend, but because of your shit, I got hauled up and fired. Now, not nearly as much."

Your friend?

Oh God. She was conversing with Isabelle.

Isabelle didn't own two hundred thousand! She wouldn't give it up for me even if she did.

I was screwed, sh*t.

Arlene yelled into the phone, "Bullshit.  You got that and more. Don't think I'm a stupid bitch because I know it, you stupid bitch. As soon as you gather yourself, contact me, and I'll let you know where the drop-off point is. Additionally, I'm giving you a discount and first choice because we are friends. If you don't ring me back in an hour, I'll sell your sister to someone who would charge much more and treat her much rougher than Skull and I would."

I had a gut feeling that Skull was a terrifying, homicidal kidnapper. Skull was the ideal name for him, so I knew this.

Given that Skull and his team had not been in the least bit delicate, I became frightened and worried about what "a lot less gentle" actually meant.

Arlene flicked her phone closed, then opened it right away and started pressing buttons. When she put it to her ear and talked, I knew she was paying attention.

She yelled into the phone, "Yeah, Big Ben, you saw it, she's with me and Skull." "You tell Finn two hundred and fifty K. He has one hour left before we shop her out."

Without waiting for a reply, she flicked her phone off. She gave me a brief second of stare before turning to go to the cocaine station.

Skull's gaze caught mine as I ignored it, gazed at the dirty blanket and wondered whether Falcone was still keeping an eye on my home. Falcone noticed Skull, Arlene, and her gang arrive, so he mobilized right once. I questioned whether any nearby neighbors heard the gunshots and dialed 911 so that, whatever happened to Brett, he wasn't bleeding to death in my living room and his child wouldn't grow up without a father, unaware that his Dad was ripped and hefty and nice, and that someone was taking care of him.

I also wondered what it would mean for me if Finn came up with the money.

When the man from the restroom emerged, lit a cigarette, and the sound of the lighter catching caught my attention, I only saw a cocaine kidnapper walking in my direction. As he got closer, my eyes latched onto him, and he looked all over my body.

He wasn't attractive, on the other hand. He required a lunch and a shower. Not in a slinky, ultra-cool, rock 'n' roll Steven Tyler way, but in a serious, I need to stop drinking coke manner, he was far too underweight.

He leaned over me, his fevered, cocaine-brightened eyes on my breasts, and put his hand in the bed.

"I enjoy this," he whispered as he ran his fingers down my arm as I tried to squirm away. I was able to move back a few inches, but he simply leaned in even closer. "We only have an hour," he observed, "so maybe we can take turns."

I shimmied back even further, making a little, instinctive, scared moan against the gag.

"Lay off, Skeet," Skull said quietly.

"Come on, dude," Skeet pleaded, his gaze fixed on my chest, his fingers running down, near to the side of my breast as I hurriedly shimmied back more, his knee collapsing and him following me.

"This cunt appears to be a nice cunt." I haven't had sweet in a long time, and guy, I deserved it."

Oh God.

I backed up much more, he followed me, and then he wasn't there.

My spine and neck stretched as I followed the sound of a body thudding fiercely into the wall.

Skull ground out, his long, slender but fit form thrusting deep and predatory into Skeet's small one. "Do you think he'd go crazy for that, pay his price for having his cunt dirtied by you?" ”

I didn't think so, and if I hadn't been restrained, I would have said so.

"Finn doesn't pay," Skull said, "do you think if we put her up for auction, they'd pay for something broken?" You have a vase worth three hundred big since it is pristine and undamaged. It's not worth anything if you smash it, you fucking imbecile."

Skeet did not respond. Skeet was trying to gag while struggling against the hand wrapped around his throat.

Skull approached Skeet's face. "Get me? ”

Skeet gave a nod.

Skull threw Skeet away, and Skeet's head smacked on the wall as a result. Skull didn't even glance at him as he moved across the room, back to his position by the bed, and continued his miserable scrutiny of me.

I was gratefully watching him. My goal was that I'd be saved, and if I was, I didn't want to be dirty and broken, and I didn't want it badly. Arlene approached Skull, sniffing and stroking her finger on her gums under her top lip. Skull leaned back and wrapped an arm around her waist as she approached. He drew her onto his lap and looked her in the eyes.

"How are you, baby?" he inquired quietly, and Arlene's expression softened at his tone.

"Yeah, sweetie," she said, blending into him.

They then began kissing.

I averted my gaze, choosing to concentrate on the fact that I was bewildered rather than my current situation.

I was very aware that abduction was a crime, thus it was obvious that he was a felon. He was hot, though. He did has that very fantastic rock and roll aesthetic. With the exception of my scratch scars, his wasn't slinky; it was cut and sinewy. He also had excellent forearms that were veined and sculpted. He had a thick, untidy tangle of brown hair.

Although his eyes were frightful, they were also an intriguing silvery pale gray. He also looked great in those faded jeans.

He was out of Arlene's league even in the seedy part of Manila where they resided, in my opinion. Although she wasn't very beautiful, she was a skank of the greatest caliber. Although Arlene went it too far, I can understand how Skull may like being rough and ready.

So, everyone to their own, I guess.

After some while, they stopped making out so Arlene could go back to the cocaine station. Smoke kidnapper remained silent and hooked. Skeet frequently strolled past the cocaine dispenser while chain smoking cigarettes, and I was aware of this because of his pacing.

Time passed as I made an effort to focus on daydreams of beaches, bikinis, and Falcone. However, I was unable to stop having daydreams in which my sister either didn't have the money or, miraculously, did have it but chose not to assist me despite the numerous times I had intervened in her miserable life. I also had day-nightmares of Finn deciding I wasn’t worth the effort since one Gomez sister cost him over two million dollars so he wasn’t going to pay over three hundred thousand for the other one.

My gaze would regularly roam the area throughout this, and it would also frequently land on Skull's.

Arlene wasn't constantly in his lap, but I noticed that he was always focused on me. It was constant, intense, and patient, yet it was also constantly miserable. amazingly patient He had no wiring. He didn't go to the coke machine. He wasn't a smoker. He remained seated, and it started to feel as though he was a guard or sentry. Despite being bad, one nonetheless.

And I had a gut feeling that Skeet and/or the cigarette kidnapper were unpredictable, so he wanted to protect the vase lest they have wasted their time, perhaps wounded Brett, and purchased Falcone's wrath for no reason.

Another issue was that despite his anger against me, he didn't come off as tense. What would be would be in Skull's case. Whatever agreement they reached was worthwhile and didn't matter to him.

In the end, the phone rang. From where she had left it at the cocaine station, Arlene sauntered over to get it. She opened it up and held it up to her ear.

"This better be good news, bitch," she said in response.

Isabelle.